


Kindle

by irithyll



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Claire is a gullible teenager, F/F, Horror, Jill isn't much of a babysitter, Trauma, it's a zombie apocalypse fic, slight Claire/Ada, sometimes people are worse than the zombies themselves, spoiler: they're all gonna have a bad time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irithyll/pseuds/irithyll
Summary: All Claire wanted to do was punch her brother in the face and get the hell out of Raccoon City. A zombie apocalypse, falling in love with her brother's partner, and struggling to survive had never been part of the equation.
Relationships: Claire Redfield/Jill Valentine
Comments: 36
Kudos: 153





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cyanCaddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanCaddy/gifts).



> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

During her three hour drive to Raccoon City, Claire decided she was certain of two things. First, she would punch Chris right in the solar plexus the moment she saw him and then she wouldn't be even the slightest bit sorry about it because he was being an absolute asshole of a brother. Really, if she were being honest with herself, even this punishment seemed far too lax given his recent behavior, but she supposed it was only fair to cut him _some_ slack given their shared bloodline.

As usual, Chris had completely overreacted to news of her temporary suspension from university and blown it way out of proportion. It had been nearly two months since they had last spoken and the dickhead couldn't bother to call her back even though she decided to be the mature one and apologize for once. Truth be told, she thought Chris should have been proud of her for the grounds for her suspension. Heather Whitman had wrongfully gotten her kicked off of the volleyball team because of a petty vendetta that stemmed from a baseless rumor, so it only seemed appropriate for Claire to get a _little_ drunk and break into her dorm to behead all of her stuffed animals.

Chris had the gall to lecture her for both underage drinking and breaking and entering, but it wasn't like he was a saint himself. He had been dishonorably discharged from the Air Force for fuck's sake and she was pretty sure he had earned himself a reputation at the Raccoon Police Department for his insubordination and anger management issues. Maybe she had been _slightly_ snarky during their last argument, but she apologized later on, so it wasn't her fault that Chris was being a complete bitch and ignoring all her calls.

Claire decided that Chris would be very, _very_ sorry for his pettiness as she arrived in Raccoon, but it was the sudden smell of smoke that made her realize that she would very soon eat her words. Once she made her way into the city limits, the scent was nearly suffocating and she could make out the fine particles of ash that flitted through the air. There was no apparent fire for as far as she could see, only eerily empty streets and abandoned vehicles, and the unsettling aura made her nervous. Claire shifted uncomfortably in the worn out seat of her shitty Honda as she approached a barricade that had been created by the wreckage of two cars.

She knew better. Really, she did. Chris had raised her to have far more sense than to get out of her car to investigate, but he had also raised her to have the guts to pull her revolver from the glovebox in case of emergency. Claire told herself that it was her concern for Chris that persuaded her to throw her logic aside as she tested the weight of the revolver in her hand before leaving the safety of her vehicle. She also told herself that it would absolutely be his fault if some creepy guy tried to kidnap her and he would definitely have to pull some strings to get her out of the subsequent inevitable murder charge she'd face.

Claire shivered when she stepped out into the September cold and wrinkled her nose at the taste of the smoky air that filled her lungs. The light leather jacket she wore offered little warmth in the uncannily frigid weather and she wrapped her arms around herself as she watched her breath form visible puffs of ice crystals in the air. She turned, taking in the chaos that surrounded her and searching for any apparent sign of life, but the stillness of the city persisted. Claire clenched her eyes shut and strained to make out the faint sound of a police siren echoing in the distance.

Her mind was practically screaming in protest as her body betrayed her by approaching the makeshift barricade nearby. Logically, she knew that the best course of action would be to get the fuck out of the city and call emergency services. Something horrible had happened in Raccoon City, but a sense of guilt kept her tethered there. Claire regretted having ever been upset with Chris and was determined to confirm his safety sooner rather than later.

She pressed her palm against the crumpled hood of one of the cars as if to test the strength of the metal. When it didn't budge beneath the force, she decided to hoist herself on top of the car to traverse past the barricade, but the hood shifted and creaked beneath her boots. Claire stumbled forward and unceremoniously landed on her feet with a relieved sigh. She looked back at the car as though it had offended her and placed a hand on her hip, fondling for the revolver to ensure its presence.

Goosebumps surfaced along her skin as she followed the length of the street. Storefronts were still illuminated, some vehicles were left running with their doors ajar, and the traffic lights continued to function as though nothing were awry. It seemed as though the city's inhabitants had been spirited away, snatched away from their humdrum lives in an instant with no apparent explanation as to why.

Claire meandered for a while, thoughtlessly following roads with no direction. She had only been to Raccoon City a handful of times and hadn't bothered to commit its layout to memory. Faintly, she could recall the surroundings of the police station from when Chris had pointed it out to her on a half-assed tour of the city, but nothing around her seemed familiar. Finding the police station seemed like the most appropriate course of action. Despite his hard demeanor, Chris was an altruist, and she had no doubt that he'd be working in a time of public need.

As she turned a corner that harbored a hardware store and adjacent furniture outlet, she caught sight of movement in the distance. Claire hopped onto the trunk of a nearby car to give herself more height and squinted hard. The figure of the person was faint, but the breadth of its trench coat-clad shoulders suggested it was a man.

"H-hey!" She breathlessly called out as she leapt off the car and hurried down the street. "Excuse me!"

The man didn't hesitate at the sound of her voice.

"Hello! I need some help!"

His gait didn't falter. The man turned sharply at a corner, head hung low beneath his fedora.

_What a fucking asshole._

Claire pursed her lips into a pout, briefly stunned into silence by his aloof behavior. The confidence in his smooth, robotic movement implied that he knew his way around the city and she contemplated following him despite his unwillingness to help. In a scenario like this, it seemed reasonable to assume that he was in search of help. Maybe he'd lead her to somewhere of use, like a hospital or fire station.

As she discreetly stalked him, she acknowledged that it was incredibly stupid on her part. Following a stranger through a ghost town was probably the worst thing she could have done in that moment, but what else was she to do? She had no idea where the fuck she was going and hadn't yet encountered anyone else. Turning back was never an option, not with Chris potentially being in danger.

She assumed they had cleared ten blocks before the landmarks became familiar. Claire felt prideful at the realization that her half-baked plan had worked out. It was only a matter of time before the high walls surrounding the police station came into view and she'd finally discover what the hell was going on in this fucked-up city.

A loud crack tore through the stillness and Claire froze in her tracks at the sound of it. She was no stranger to the sound of a gun firing and a subsequent shot confirmed that she hadn't imagined it. The man she was following stiffened to attention, swiftly turning his entire body towards the direction of the gunfire before breaking into an awkward sprint.

_Fuck._

Claire turned in a circle, frantically searching for any hint of the police station. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure that the area was as familiar as she had initially thought. Perhaps her vague recollection of the police station had merely been a product of her imagination. Maybe she wasn't anywhere near it.

She blamed it on the Redfield blood when she tore off in the same direction of the man. After all, she _was_ Chris's sister, wasn't she? She couldn't be blamed for her dumbassery. Sharing blood with Chris meant she was handicapped from the start.

When she rounded the corner, Claire let out a breath of relief at the sight of the towering walls that surrounded the police precinct. It was at the end of the stretch of road, standing menacingly tall against the grey smudge of sky, and appeared to still be intact from what she could observe. Chris was probably inside and she decided she'd grant him mercy and only give him a swift elbow to the gut for being such a dick.

Her musings were cut short by another gunshot. Claire swallowed hard as she took notice of the scene before her. A woman stood in front of the gates, stance wide as she aimed down the sight of a pistol at a man. She heard him hiss, groaning quietly as he stumbled towards her, and she watched in horror as the woman fired again. The man jerked, head falling back at an unnatural angle before he crumpled onto the pavement. The woman paused, lowering her gun, and she gave the fallen man a quick kick to ensure he was unresponsive.

Had she just...killed a man? In front of a _police station_?

She had nearly forgotten about the original man she had stalked until she heard his boots rapidly strike hard against the ground. He stomped towards the woman in a menacing fashion, his hands balled into fists as he closed the distance between them. Unprompted, he lifted an arm, reeling it back as though in preparation to deliver a punch.

What the _fuck_ was happening in Raccoon City?

" _Hey!"_

Her voice didn't even sound like her own. This time, her shout elicited a response from the man, and he briefly paused before redirecting himself to beeline towards her.

She didn't know what she expected to happen. Her heart thrummed loudly in her chest as he drew close enough for her to make out the details of his face. Though most of it was hidden by the brim of his hat, she could see the unnatural grey hue of his skin that wrinkled around the grim line of his mouth. He formed a tight fist and Claire instantly knew she had fucked up. She fumbled for the revolver at her side and clenched it with trembling hands as she pointed it at the man.

"Don't!" She shouted. "I'll fucking shoot!"

Of _course_ he didn't react. Why the hell did she think that would work?

Claire cringed, squeezing her eyes shut as she curled her finger around the trigger. She had shot plenty of guns in her lifetime as a result of Chris's insistence, but to actually shoot a human being was entirely different. Claire had always assured Chris that she'd have no problem killing someone in self defense, but now that she was truly in danger, she wasn't sure she had the bravery to end a life.

She heard a rapid succession of gunshots, ones that weren't her own. Claire opened her eyes in time to watch the man drop to the ground in a kneel, a hand braced against the cement to support his own weight. His gaze was empty as he stared down at the ground and Claire couldn't be sure that he wasn't alive. There was no sign of blood, no apparent injury or discernible rise and fall of his chest.

"Hurry up!"

The woman snapped at her, beckoning for her to approach with a wave of her hand. Claire's attention faltered between the downed man and her as she hurriedly weighed her options. This woman had very likely just _killed_ two human beings right in front of her, but there was no telling what the man would have done had she not intervened. Staying behind and agreeing to follow were both guaranteed to have negative repercussions. Would she rather be a potential hostage or fucking _dead?_

Her blood was still beating in her ears when she hastily made her way towards the woman. Any thoughts she might have had were drowned out by the pulsation of her heart as the woman snatched her by the wrist, forcefully tugging her through the front gate of the police station and slamming it closed behind them. Claire could barely hear the clink of the heavy chain that she wound around the wrought iron bars in a rush, looping it several times before securing it with a thick padlock.

Claire couldn't remember entering the precinct. She stood at the height of the stairs in the lobby, tendrils of sweat-dampened hair clinging to her face and chest heaving as her breath came in ragged breaths, and she watched the woman approach the nearby reception desk. As the numbness brought on by the adrenaline surge wore off, Claire's senses grew less dull, and she began to take in her surroundings—more rather, the woman.

The flickering blue light of the computer monitor reflected off of her pale skin and illuminated her light eyes. Claire watched her full lips purse into a slight pout as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear and let out an exasperated sigh as she aggressively tapped at the keyboard. She followed the shape of her jaw and the long column of her neck with her eyes, her attention coming to rest at the smooth expanse of chest that was left on display by the low neckline of the sleeveless henley that she wore.

Claire struggled to swallow past the lump that formed in her throat as she noted the delicate shape of her collarbone and the tease of cleavage that peeked from beneath fabric when she leaned closer to the screen. When the woman moved around the edge of the desk to snap leaves off of a potted plant, Claire couldn't keep from gawking at the snug fit of her jeans that left little of her shapely thighs to the imagination.

Deranged killer or not, she might have been the hottest woman Claire had ever seen, and she felt her face grow hot at the realization.

"Um…"

Claire coughed nervously at her lack of eloquence.

"What's going on?" She finally asked, voice cracking as she spoke.

The woman released the magazine from her gun and began to refill it with a practiced motion of her hand.

"We need to get out of the city." She said. "It's not safe."

No shit.

"I can't."

She seemed less than impressed by Claire's response, only arching a thin eyebrow in return.

"My brother," Claire stumbled over her words, "I have to find my brother first."

The lobby was quiet and she suddenly felt embarrassed for a reason she couldn't explain. Claire avoided looking at the woman and instead studied the lacquered tiles beneath her feet.

"It's been three days." The cold tone of her voice bothered Claire. "Your brother probably isn't here anymore."

"Three days?"

"Three days since the infection started."

Claire's brow furrowed in confusion as she asked, "Infection?"

The soles of the woman's boots were loud against the tiled floor as she moved towards Claire. Claire inhaled sharply, breath hitching in anticipation and perhaps fear that she'd become her next victim. Without so much as sparing her a glance, the woman cooly brushed past her and approached a nearby shutter on the eastern wall of the station.

"The T-Virus." The woman breathily said as she dropped to her hands and knees to peer beneath the slight opening between the shutter and the floor.

Claire crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance. The T-Virus? What the hell was the T-Virus?

"I don't understand."

It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her when the woman looked back at her from over her shoulder, her powder blue eyes piercingly bright.

"Zombies," she grunted as she stood, dusting off the knees of her pants, "The city is swarmed with them."

Claire was dumbfounded. She stared at her for a moment in wait of some shitty punchline to her terrible joke, but the woman remained stoic.

"You're _serious_?" Her voice was elevated in pitch to illustrate her disbelief. "Zombies...seriously?"

She leaned against the wall beside the shutter, crossing her arms as she eyed Claire apathetically.

"Have you _been_ outside? What else would you call them?"

"No," Claire laughed, "I just got here. Like I said, I'm looking for my brother."

The woman sighed and Claire took interest in observing the odd layout of the lobby. Faintly, she remembered Chris telling her that the police precinct had been repurposed out of an old museum, but knowing such didn't make it any less bizarre. A statue of a woman sat in the middle of the room and she found no signs indicating the direction of the S.T.A.R.S. office.

"Why are you here instead of leaving the city?"

The question left her mouth before she had a chance to think, but the woman didn't appear to be offended by her straightforwardness.

"Looking for weapons."

It made enough sense, but…

"Where are the police?" Claire inquired. "Aren't they, uh...using them?"

The woman smiled bitterly.

"There isn't much of a police force left."

Claire's chest tightened at the implication of her words.

"My brother is here." She insisted. "He's a cop. I know he's here."

Her companion seemed less than convinced based on the skeptical expression she wore, but the woman said nothing in regard to it.

"I'm going." She announced, nodding her head towards the shutter. "It's the only way through."

Claire wasn't sure that it was an invitation, but she chose to follow anyway. The shutter was jammed in place and she only managed to yank it about an inch upward, allowing the woman the slightest bit of space to slip beneath. She watched her settle against the floor, prone as she struggled to shuffle beneath it at a slow pace. Once she disappeared on the other side, Claire's breath hitched in her throat as she imagined what might lay on the opposite side.

"Are you coming?"

The woman's voice was muffled by the metal between them and Claire noticed that her fingers were curled around the edge of the shutter as she gripped it from the other side. Claire lowered herself to her knees and peeked beneath the shutter, but was unable to see anything but the woman's boots given the lack of light.

"Y-yeah."

What the hell was she doing? Chris would have been so disappointed in her, but what else was she to do? She didn't know her way around and, if the woman wasn't absolutely batshit crazy by some stroke of fate, traversing alone in the alleged zombie apocalypse seemed like an awful idea.

Claire dragged herself across the ground by her arms, wrinkling her nose at the stench that greeted her once she passed beneath the shutter. The hall was dark and eerie, only barely lit by the artificial blue light of the face of a vending machine on the opposite side, but it was enough to reveal a pool of blood that glistened in the midst of the stretch of floor. Claire scrambled to stand, once again reflexively resting her hand against the handle of her revolver as she noted that the gore appeared to be fresh.

The metallic scent of blood was mixed with that of rot and she pressed her lips together tightly to keep from tasting it in the air as she stood. Claire watched the other woman take point to slowly round the corner at the end of the hall with her hands tightly wrapped around the grip of her handgun and she wondered what kind of history the woman had to be so seemingly unperturbed by the environment. She followed her around the turn of the corridor to find the pathway blocked by furniture. Claire furrowed her brow as the woman pressed her hand against a side table that had been haphazardly stacked atop an overturned bench.

"Hey," she whispered, "Do you even know your way around here?"

The woman moved the table and began to push the bench with her shoulder, an action that resulted in frustration on Claire's part. Why the hell was everyone ignoring her?

Before she had a chance to retort, a loud shriek came from the opposite side of the barricade and she saw an arm shoot through an opening in the blockade. Fingers curled at seemingly painful angles as they groped the open air, skin greyed and stained with blood. The woman looked back at Claire from over her shoulder with a hard gaze before swiftly drawing the knife strapped to her leg. She shoved the bench hard, causing it to topple over and land on the body.

"Come here." She softly said, moving to stand to the side of the bench.

Claire watched the arm fumble in the air as the person gurgled beneath the weight of the bench. She slowly moved towards it, eyes glued to the wildly flailing limb as she approached. She felt the woman's stare, but didn't dare look away. Once she was close enough, she saw his—no, _its_ face.

The man's skin was dusky and when he thrashed his head to the side, she saw a line of open sores along his jaw. His eyes were milky in appearance, irises completely clouded over, and she wasn't entirely sure that he could see given the way his eyes sporadically rolled about in their sockets. He grunted, gnashed his yellowed teeth at her as a frothy mixture of blood and saliva dribbled down the side of his face.

"Do you believe me now?"

Claire's heart thumped in her chest. If _not_ a zombie, what the fuck else could it have been? Was this really happening?

The woman kneeled beside the creature and drove her knife through its forehead with an audible crack, silencing it for good.

"Holy shit," Claire managed to breathe, "Holy _shit._ "

The woman wiped the blade of her weapon off on the creature's soiled flannel shirt.

Zombies. Fucking _zombies._ Zombies in fucking _Raccoon City_ and Chris was fucking _missing._

"Hey."

Claire jerked her head upwards, tearing her attention away from the corpse and to the woman.

"What's your name?"

Zombies in fucking Raccoon City and Chris wasn't _there._

"Claire."

She saw the corner of her mouth twitch, but didn't comment on it.

"What's your name?"

The woman turned away from her.

"Jill."

Claire looked back at the corpse and anxiously ran her hand through her hair. Was it _really_ dead?

"Claire," Jill called, "Come on."

Claire gave the zombie one final look before following her through the corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

The screech that the creature let out made her cringe. Claire watched it writhe about on the floor, claws grasping at empty air as it struggled to draw in its final breaths. Jill stood nearby, handgun still aimed directly at its exposed brain matter. Within a matter of seconds, its movement ceased, and Claire found herself holding her breath in anticipation.

"Is it...dead?" She eventually asked, eyes still glued to the corpse in fear that it would spontaneously reanimate.

"Yeah."

Jill paused for a moment before holstering her handgun and ascending the twisting staircase. Claire hesitated before following, neck straining as she turned to keep a watchful eye on the monster.

"Those stay dead." Jill commented despite having not looked back at Claire to observe her anxious behavior.

Claire felt her face flush. How did Jill know?

"Oh," she lamely responded, "That's good."

Somehow, Jill's presence made her feel incredibly small. Claire had never described herself as a nervous person in the past, but Jill seemed to inspire that quality in her. She blamed her anxiety on the situation at hand because, _hell,_ who wouldn't be a wreck during the zombie _fucking_ apocalypse? Chris's unexpected absence probably didn't help much either.

Jill came to an abrupt halt, pressing her ear against a door in an attempt to discern what might lie in wait on the opposite side. She furrowed her brow in concentration and eventually let out a soft sigh. Her gaze was intense when her eyes met Claire's and, when she rolled her shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, Claire wasn't sure what to expect.

"Quietly." Jill whispered, her right hand lightly resting on the doorknob as she drew her pistol with the other.

Claire could hear her heartbeat thrumming away in her ears, the sound of it so loud that it drowned out the subtle noises of her surroundings. If the door creaked as Jill inched it open, she wouldn't have known. She watched Jill step lightly through the threshold, handgun ready and body rigid in attention. Claire did her best to emulate her movement and gingerly closed the door behind her in a way that she hoped was soundless.

The bench that sat against the adjacent wall had been destroyed, its leather cushion roughly torn in various places. Claire thought about the claws on the creature Jill had killed before and grimaced at the sight of the blood that saturated the exposed tufts of plush filling. Several bullet casings were strewn across the ground, their metallic sheen standing out against the darkness of the dried blood that had been smeared across the hardwood floor. Claire swallowed hard before breathing in slowly through her nose in an attempt to ease her nerves.

Faintly, she made out the sound of wind and rain in the distance. Fine pieces of shattered glass were strewn across the floor, following the trail of blood around the corner ahead. Claire stepped a little closer to Jill, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her exposed skin, and her mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry. Her heart continued to race, seemingly fluttering into the base of her throat, and she felt sweat begin to bead along the nape of her neck.

Jill rounded the corner with a careful stride and Claire surprised herself by following suit. As soon as she began to move, she was stunned into stillness by the sight that greeted her. Another creature like the one before, one with claws and exposed brain and that terrible fucking _hiss,_ was casually suspended from the ceiling. Before she had a chance to react, it jerked open its jaw, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth and allowing its unnaturally long tongue to loll out.

She watched its tongue dangle in the air before extending towards the ground. It slithered slowly across the wooden surface, smearing the partially dried blood that surrounded a corpse. Claire flinched, feeling her stomach turn at the sight of it as it meandered across the back of the corpse's head. Claire didn't realize what was happening until it whipped the corpse into the air in one fell swoop, holding it suspended in the air by the makeshift noose it had fashioned with its tongue.

Jill started to move. Her stance was confident and steady as she approached the creature, her footfalls somehow silent as she moved past the dangling corpse. In that moment, Claire wondered if her initial assessment of Jill being some variety of psychopath was accurate. How could she willingly move past that thing? Claire wasn't entirely sure she would be able to do the same. The monster might have been distracted, but _still_...

It wasn't Jill's fault that her strategy failed, nor was it Claire's. A dull thud came from behind Claire, one that seemed to rattle the door on its hinges. Claire's eyes widened in both confusion and horror as she glanced back over her shoulder at the door they had passed through and then back to Jill. Jill was beneath the creature, handgun gripped tightly as she looked up at it with a blank expression.

Whatever was behind the opposite door was adamant about entering. Another thud came and the monster hissed, craning its neck as though concentrating on its surroundings in some way. It snapped its head from one direction to another despite not having eyes to see and Claire held her breath. The door suddenly gave way, swinging open and colliding against the opposite wall, and the creature leapt down from the ceiling.

Time seemed to move slowly. Claire spun around to witness a zombie come barreling through the door, stumbling forward and falling to the floor. She turned back just in time to see the creature knock Jill to the ground, pinning her down with a hard press of a claw against her chest. Jill thrashed beneath it, bucking her hips in an attempt to throw it off herself and gripping its limb to rip it away from her body. Saliva dripped from the monster's open mouth and it released its tongue, grazing the tip of it across the flesh of her cheek.

Claire became acutely aware of the shuffling of feet from behind her. The zombie was closing in on her, limping towards her with its arms uselessly dangling at its side. It opened its mouth to let out a groan and she watched blood drip from between its yellowed teeth, dribbling down its chin and onto its already soiled shirt. She stepped back, increasing the distance between them until her back hit the wall, but the zombie continued to advance and she glanced down at the revolver in her hand.

She flinched at the sound of the gunshot.. The bullet passed through the base of the zombie's throat, but it had done nothing to slow its advance. Claire squeezed the trigger again, pulling it in two consecutive motions, and the zombie crumpled to the ground. She stared at it for a moment, waiting for it to rise, but the loud wail of the other creature drew her attention away.

Jill had one of her legs bent with her knee shoved into the monster's chest to maintain distance between them. Her knuckles were white from the force with which she restrained both of its front limbs and Claire could see the tension in the tremble of her arms. The monster thrashed about in her restraint, saliva flying through the air as it whipped its head back and forth, and Claire realized what had to be done.

Three shots. She had three shots left to save Jill's life. Claire aimed down the sight of her revolver and attempted to line it up with the creature's exposed brain. The first time she fired, the bullet whirred over its head as the monster attempted to snatch its limbs free of Jill's hold. Claire's face grew hot in embarrassment and she tightened her hold on the revolver.

_Don't fuck this up._

Claire's eyes fluttered closed. She thought about Chris and the lessons he had given her while growing up. How disappointed would he be in her now? Her stance wasn't right, her breathing was erratic, and she wasn't focused enough. Why wasn't she taking this seriously?

_"Stop fucking around,"_ Chris had once told her, _"You need to take this seriously. It might save a life someday."_

She could remember it—standing in the backyard behind their parents house with her hands wrapped so tightly around the semi-automatic handgun that her nails were digging into the tender skin of her palms. Chris had scolded her for that, told her to keep from locking her elbows and straining herself. The recoil of the weapon had surprised her and left her wrist aching, but she didn't dare tell Chris out of fear that he'd reprimand her once more.

Claire thought about Chris as she corrected her posture, taking on a boxer's stance as she placed one leg in front of the other. She shifted her body weight forward and angled her right shoulder towards the monster as she breathed in deeply, lining up the shot once more. There were two shots left, two _fucking_ shots, and if she missed the first, she may very well end up using the second on herself to avoid being torn to shreds by the creature.

It shouldn't have, but seeing the soft tissue of the monster's brain blow out across the floor shocked her. Merely a second ago, the fucker was lashing at Jill with its claws, but now it was suddenly silent and limp as Jill shoved it off of her with a grunt. Claire watched its corpse hit the floor with an audible thump and Jill wasted no time in collecting herself from the ground and snatching up her own weapon that had been knocked from her grasp.

"You're bleeding." Claire whispered as she noted Jill's appearance.

Jill looked down at herself. The front of her shirt was torn, exposing a small strip of marred skin at the base of her ribcage. The cloth surrounding the area had been liberally saturated with blood and she pressed a hand against her abdomen. When she pulled it away, her hand was covered in blood that glistened in the moonlight that shone through the windows nearby. She braced her hand against her wound once again and mumbled for Claire to follow her to a door nearby.

Someone had gotten to the S.T.A.R.S. office before them. Desks, chairs, and various pieces of equipment had been knocked over, littering the floor with sheets of paper and office supplies. Claire hesitated in the doorway as Jill stood still, slowly taking in her surroundings in silence. She sighed and made her way to one of the desks, dropping to her knees to pull out the drawers.

"What are you looking for?" Claire asked.

Jill didn't answer. Instead, she continued to rifle through the contents of the desk until she procured what appeared to be a first aid kit. Claire found the speed with which Jill found it to be curious. It was almost as though she was familiar with the place.

Her thoughts came to a standstill when Jill began to crush a packet with the back of a flashlight.

"What are you doing?" She asked, approaching her in order to get a better view.

Whatever Jill found had been crushed into a fine powder and Claire watched her mix the red and green substances together, forming a disgusting brown end product. Jill scooped it into her palm and lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it back to just beneath her breasts. Claire knew she should have allowed Jill modesty, but she couldn't force herself to look away. She felt her face grow hot as she watched the sleek muscle of her abdomen tense while she changed positions, sitting back on her haunches and packing the substance into her wound.

"These herbs have medicinal properties." She simply said, head still tilted downward to observe her work. "You might need them sometime. They grow all around Raccoon City."

Her bright blue eyes met Claire's and her expression was unreadable as always. Claire quickly looked away, cheeks still burning hot, and watched Jill drop the hem of her shirt from her periphery. Coughing awkwardly, she looked back at Jill.

"My brother works here," she told her, "He's in S.T.A.R.S."

Jill was silent. She pressed her lips together in a grim line as she slowly eyed Claire. Under her scrutiny, Claire felt increasingly uneasy, and she wondered what was running through the older woman's mind. She suddenly felt extraordinarily aware of herself. Was her hair a mess? Did she have zombie guts on her face?

"But, uh," Claire spoke up to hopefully relieve the tension between them, "He's clearly not here."

Jill kicked an overturned chair aside and made her way to the back of the office. She pulled something from her back pocket, a metallic object that shone in the light, and approached a computer in the back of the room. Claire watched her jam it into the tower nearby and a metal door slid open to allow a way into the locker room in the back.

"How did you know about that?" She asked in amazement and Jill shrugged, her back still turned to Claire.

"Some guy told me before he left." She said, voice strangely low. "Said there were supplies back here."

Claire followed her into the small room, eyes sweeping over the tall row of lockers. They were all identical with no hints as to who they belonged to, but one had to belong to Chris. Knowing him, his locker was probably loaded with all kinds of means of self-defense. He had become pretty paranoid ever since he became a cop and Claire never thought she'd be grateful for his neurotic behavior until now.

An audible click came from nearby and she saw Jill pull a tool out of one of the padlocks. Jill tossed the lock aside as though she hadn't just broken into a locker in the zombie apocalypse like some sort of badass and Claire bit her lower lip, debating whether or not to comment on it. Though Jill had quickly developed a habit of making her feel stupid, Claire couldn't help but admire her in many ways.

"You know how to pick locks?" She squeaked, her burning curiosity getting the best of her.

Jill hummed in affirmation as she began to search through the locker. She retrieved a backpack and set it on a bench behind her, tossing boxes of bullets and a first aid kit into it. Claire awkwardly stood nearby, feeling incredibly useless given her lack of lockpicking skills, and she meandered back into the office. She eyed the wreckage in an effort to discover even the slightest hint of Chris, but Jill soon called out for her.

"Take this." She said, passing her a second backpack.

The straps were heavy on her shoulders, but she didn't want to show it. Claire acted as though they weren't digging into her skin as Jill passed her a gun. It was intimidating to say the least, unlike anything she had ever seen before, but she guessed it was a submachine gun based on her totally legit, absolutely realistic experiences in video games.

"Um," she turned it, studying the dark sheen of the metal and the various odds and ends it had been customized with, "I...don't know how to use this. I don't even know what it is."

For the first time since she had met her, Jill laughed. It was a soft sound, a single breath, and Claire felt something deep in the pit of her belly.

"It's easy to shoot." Jill told her. "It's fast, but be ready for the recoil."

She slung her own backpack over one shoulder and gave Claire the slightest hint of a smirk. In response, she once again felt flustered, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head at herself. What the hell was wrong with her? Chris was missing and it was the zombie fuckin' apocalypse and here she was, lusting over some woman who she didn't even know. Was she really that desperate?

The muffled sound of a door slamming shut elsewhere within the station made her jump. Claire looked over at Jill, eyes wide in surprise, and Jill held a finger to her lips to persuade her into silence. She nodded at the wall that was shared with the hallway outside and pressed her back against it, standing beside the door. Jill motioned for Claire to mirror her along the opposite side, the side to which the door opened, and Claire nervously obeyed.

It seemed like forever. Loud stomps resounded throughout the building, accompanied by the rough slamming of doors. Claire wiped at the sweat that formed on the nape of her neck. She felt her heart hammering in her chest and looked down at her bare arms that were now covered in goosebumps. The anticipation only worsened as the footsteps grew louder and she glanced over at Jill again, her fear evident on her face.

"Listen," Jill whispered, "Whether it's human or not, I want you to run."

Claire wasn't sure what to say. Her lips parted and closed as she floundered for a response. Did Jill doubt her? Of course she doubted her. Hadn't she already proven how much of a dumbass she was?

"But what about you?" She incredulously asked and Jill smiled again—warmly this time, exposing her bright teeth and somehow easing Claire's nerves.

"I'll be alright." Jill assured her. "And I'll catch up to you. Just don't stop running."

Though she didn't care much for the plan, Claire had to admit that it was probably the best option. Her lackluster skills seemed entirely nonexistent compared to Jill's and she would likely end up botching whatever plan the woman devised. She was a hindrance more than anything, a liability, and the last thing she needed was to be crippled by some wound and become an even sharper thorn in Jill's side.

The stomping was close—the hallway, maybe. Claire cast Jill another uncertain look and she returned it with a smile. Whatever was coming their way was advancing, steps so heavy that Claire swore she felt the floor shake, and soon the door flew open and her body kicked into gear. Claire faintly saw the blur of that familiar leather trench coat as that asshole from before entered the room and she went unnoticed as she darted behind him.

She was halfway down the hall when she heard a loud bang and she winced. Claire wondered if she should turn around, if she should disobey Jill's instructions and make sure she was alright, but what the hell would she do if she weren't? That massive fucker was apparently indestructible and both of them were likely to die if she fucked it up.

So Claire ran. She sprinted down the length of the hall and passed through rooms without paying them much mind. Eventually, she stumbled into a library that was devoid of the dead and fucked up creatures, and she leaned over, bracing her hands against her thighs as she panted. The sweat that slicked her skin held tendrils of hair plastered against her face and she tugged at the tie in her hair, tightening her ponytail that had begun to come loose.

The footsteps were audible again as she stepped into the middle of the room and she quickly scanned the area. Claire didn't know where the hell she was going or what she was doing, but she knew she could _hide_ from the fucking thing. She sucked in a breath as she shimmied in between two bookshelves that had been pushed so closely together that she could barely squeeze between them.

She heard the door creak open and she preemptively flinched, but the door clicked closed softly. It wasn't characteristic of the monster and, despite her best judgment, Claire moved to the opening between the bookcases, peering out to find Jill pushing a piece of furniture in front of the door.

"Jill!" She hissed. "Here!"

Jill gave her a curious look, but the rapidly approaching footsteps quelled her hesitance. She quickly sprinted over to Claire and studied the small space for a brief moment before maneuvering into the gap. Claire breathed in deep as she heard the door collide against the wall, presumably being thrust open, and the subsequent clatter of the table Jill had used as a barricade against the floor.

She didn't want to breathe. Claire took in shallow, erratic breaths through her nose to ease the growing tightness in her chest. The space was cramped and hot and she could feel Jill's shoulder pressed against hers, her skin incredibly soft and warm. Claire closed her eyes and tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling as she mentally berated herself for even noticing the feel of Jill's skin in such a moment. Why was she like this?

The monster stomped through the library, moving methodically in a circle. Claire turned her head to the side to watch it from beyond the view of Jill's profile and felt her heart race. She chalked it up to terror, not the soft edges of Jill's face, and she bit her lower lip to hold in a breath when the monster approached. She could make out the wrinkles on its face, the stitching in its coat, and _fuck,_ it was so close.

As quickly as it had come, the monster suddenly left her view. Claire let out a breath of relief as a door slammed closed and the echo of its footsteps grew faint. She hadn't realized that Jill had shimmied out of the space until she was reaching for Claire's hand, enveloping it in her calloused palm and encouraging her to follow with a gentle tug.

Though the creature was gone, she couldn't find relief. Claire knew this wasn't the end, that they could easily encounter that fucker at any moment or perhaps something worse. She wiped the sweat from her brow as Jill padded towards a door nearby.

"Where are we going?" Claire softly asked and Jill swiveled around on a heel.

"We're getting the fuck out of Raccoon City." She plainly said.

Claire was torn.

"But...my brother might be here."

Jill sighed and closed some of the distance between them. She reached out and rested a palm on Claire's shoulder.

"You said your brother is S.T.A.R.S., right?"

Claire nodded and Jill gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Then he definitely has enough sense to get the hell out of Raccoon City, too," Jill declared, "I don't think he's here, Claire."

Jill had a point. Chris was stupid, but he wasn't _that_ stupid. He was probably long gone from that god forsaken city. If anyone had the ability to make it out, it was Chris _,_ and the conviction in Jill's stare was enough to convince Claire that he definitely _had_ made it out alive.

"You're probably right." Claire whispered. "Let's go."

As they made their way through the precinct's lobby, Claire looked back at it from over her shoulder one last time as Jill pushed open the front doors.

_Chris,_ she thought to herself, _you better be alive._


End file.
